


she lived right through me

by aphrodite_mine



Category: Luther (TV)
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, picture prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-08
Updated: 2012-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-13 19:04:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphrodite_mine/pseuds/aphrodite_mine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jenny might be getting used to Alice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	she lived right through me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chaila](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaila/gifts).



> Prompted by [this image](http://chaila.tumblr.com/post/29367178372).

Alice doesn't sleep. And really, Jenny should find this far more disorienting than she does. She should, Jenny thinks, jerk awake at the slightest creaking of the floorboards. At the whistle of the kettle. At the settling of cloth against cloth, skin against skin. Hasn't she learned?

She stumbles down the dark hallway, groping for the washroom door. 

"Told you to stop at four," she says, _Alice_ says, a spectre.

"Gnnh?" Jenny answers because, well, someone has to sleep around here. "Th'fuck're you talkin' about?"

"Four cups." Alice blinks, slowly becoming solid. Jenny could reach out and touch her, but she doesn't. Doesn't quite dare. The sight of lashes pressed to cheek is more jolting than the alternative, and Jenny just shakes her head, shutting the door behind her. 

She doesn't force it, and it doesn't latch. Alice is there, waiting, which makes it -- despite the number of fucks her bladder could give right now -- impossible to pee. "The loo isn't for social calls, Alice," she mumbles, finally able to work her tongue against her teeth in a way that forms recognizable words.

"Shh," Alice hisses then, "You'll wake John."

"I'm not the one who--" Jenny sighs, flushes the toilet, and leans her head against the door ajar while washing her hands. "This could have been a completely non-disruptive trip to the toilet, Alice, if you--"

"He's sleeping," comes her whisper, next to Jenny's ear, through the gap in the door. "You understand."

The hallway is a shade or two lighter when she emerges, knowing John has collapsed on the couch instead of his bed, knowing he's barely loosened his tie before shorting out, before snoring.

"Yeah," Jenny answers, rolling her eyes, not caring if Alice can see her in the darkness or not. "I understand."


End file.
